She grinned. “Well I do—enormously.” And then her gaze turned hot and she lowered her lashes to offer him a seductive gaze. “Do you suppose we might have time for another remarkable moment before I have to return home?”
Blood pumping in his veins at her suggestion, he flipped her onto her back in one fluid move, eliciting a squeal from her as he placed his lips against her breast and quietly muttered, “I believe we might.”
Chapter 25
It took no small amount of organization for Anthony to pull off his plan of reuniting Isabella with her grandparents. He’d sent word to his mother and Louise first, but as eager as they’d both been to jump to his assistance, they’d had social functions that had been difficult for them to back out of without coming across as rude.
Eventually, it was decided that as long as the Deerfords were in agreement, they would come to Kingsborough Hall the following week so they could return to London in time for the Darwich Ball. Anthony’s mother had written to him, suggesting that if Lady Margaret and her parents were to reconcile as well, then the ball presented not only a good opportunity for Anthony and Isabella to announce their upcoming nuptials, but to welcome Lady Margaret back into Society with her husband by her side.
His mother signed off by saying that with the limited time available to them, she would place all responsibility of finding appropriate gowns for both Isabella and her mother on his shoulders.
Setting the missive aside, Anthony rolled his eyes and groaned. He detested anything to do with modiste shops, fashion plates, fittings and the like—hell, he himself was barely reasonably dressed at any given time, and his mother wanted him to help Isabella select a ball gown. Eyeing the side table, he decided that there wasn’t enough brandy in the world to make this task any more appealing.
Blast!
He loved Isabella, of course, and would do anything for her, but fabric selection at a modiste’s? Gah, but it was a most unpleasant thought. Still, it was important that she look her absolute best when she made her first appearance before theton. With this in mind, Anthony found himself escorting both Isabella and her mother to Madame Bertrand’s, where he took a stand against a green silk—not that it wouldn’t have suited Isabella immensely, but the frost blue he’d seen the last time he’d been there would suit her better. Her mother, thankfully, agreed, and together they convinced Isabella to acquiesce.
For Lady Margaret, Isabella suggested a burgundy satin, and when her mother protested, it was Anthony to whom Isabella turned for support, which he happily gave, since it was a lovely fabric. “A bold color for a bold woman,” he said to his soon-to-be mother-in-law with a wink.
In the end, their errand was accomplished in record time—a feat for which Anthony gave the ladies full credit. To show his appreciation, he invited them both for tea at Mrs. Wilkes’ Tearoom, ensuring that they both selected a tart and suppressing a smile when Isabella deliberately avoided the one with apples. Seating themselves in a small nook, they each proceeded to enjoy their treats.
“Thank you again for ordering those gowns on our behalf,” Lady Margaret said as she took a sip of her tea. “The fabric was very dear, not to mention how much it will probably cost to—”
Anthony waved away her concerns with his hand. “My dear lady, you really mustn’t worry about that. It is my pleasure to ensure that you will both be equally stunning at the Darwich Ball. Tomorrow I will send my valet over to your house so he can discuss your husband’s attire with him.”
Lady Margaret leveled him with a frank stare. “You still haven’t told us what you intend to say when people start asking about Isabella’s identity and heritage.”
“I’m working on it,” Anthony assured her, though she didn’t look the least bit convinced. All he could do was thank his lucky stars that she didn’t know what his plan entailed, for she would undoubtedly quit the country before allowing him to reunite her with her parents or make a public appearance as the long-lost Lady Margaret.
Casting a sidelong glance at Isabella, he steeled himself. This was what she wanted, and he had to concede that if this situation could be resolved, Lady Margaret’s reputation could in all likelihood be restored, allowing her daughter to be accepted into Society with honor and dignity. It was most assuredly a battle worth fighting.
When Lady Louise and her mother the duchess stopped by the Chilcott residency two days later, Isabella was about to collapse into a bundle of nerves. She’d been looking forward to this day for almost a week, but now that it had finally arrived, something odd had begun happening to her stomach—as if it had suddenly decided that it didn’t belong in her body. Attempting bravery, she donned a bright smile as she wished her mother a pleasant afternoon, promising not to remain too long in her hostesses’ company. On quaking legs she then made her way toward the Kingsborough carriage, which stood waiting, and allowed the driver to help her up.
“Dear me,” Lady Louise said as Isabella seated herself across from her. “You look as if you’re heading to the gallows! I hope your parents didn’t notice, or they’ll think we have ulterior motives.”
“Which we do,” the duchess reminded her daughter.
“What I meant is that they might believe we’re trying to offer Anthony some timealonewith his future bride,” Lady Louise said.
The duchess snorted. “As if that might be any worse in this instance. As it is we’ll be lucky if Lady Margaret doesn’t murder all of us once she discovers what we’ve been up to.” Isabella winced, and the duchess immediately turned a kind smile on her. “Not to worry, though. I’m confident that everything will work out just fine, and as for your jitters, they’re really unfounded. Your grandmamma and grandpapa are equally anxious to meet you.”
“Truly?” Isabella asked.
The duchess nodded, still smiling, and a quiet sense of relief washed over Isabella, which was silly, really, considering how anxious the Deerfords had seemed on the night of the ball when they’d almost blown her cover. She was their granddaughter, for heaven’s sake. They would have to be beasts not to want to meet her.
Drawing a fortifying breath, Isabella leaned back against the backrest and braced herself for the afternoon ahead. She had asked for this, it was her idea, and there was no turning back now without looking like a coward, and a coward she was not—she’d meant to marry Mr. Roberts for the sake of her family, after all. As far as heroics went, that ought to count for something.
Eventually, Isabella managed to calm herself, and when she stepped into the parlor at Kingsborough Hall, only to be swept into an immediate embrace by Lady Deerford, she knew her concerns had been unfounded.
“Look at you,” her grandmother cried, stepping back for only a fraction of a second before pulling Isabella against her once more. Given the portly woman that Lady Deerford was, Isabella was forced to admit that she did give rather good hugs. “You’re ravishing, my dear—a diamond of the first water and I’ll shoot anyone who says otherwise.”
“Now, now, my dear,” a male voice said with a good-humored ring to it. “It wouldn’t do for you to kill her when we’ve only just found her—perhaps you will allow the girl to breathe?”
“Nonsense, Hugh—I’ve no intention of ever letting her out of my sight,” Lady Deerford replied, though she did disengage herself from Isabella and stand aside enough for her to get a better view of her grandfather.
Deerford chuckled. “I daresay Kingsborough may have a thing or two to say about that.” He stepped right up to Isabella and smiled—eyes warm and welcoming as he took her hand and raised it to his lips. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Leaning closer, he whispered, “Please go easy on her—she’s been waiting so terribly long for this moment and is full of excitement.”
“And why wouldn’t I be?” Lady Deerford asked, attesting to the fact that there was nothing wrong with her hearing. “She’s mygranddaughter—fully grown and practically with children on the way, and I’ve only just set eyes on her now! Of course I’m excited!”
